


Double O Over Ice

by Rigel99



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 01:29:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8870473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rigel99/pseuds/Rigel99
Summary: Yeah. As is the way of these things, a slightly slow build demands an extra chapter! (sorrynotsorry)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Boffin1710](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boffin1710/gifts), [natalieashe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalieashe/gifts).



  
Q hated Christmas.

No. Scrap that. He _loathed_ Christmas.

“Fancy some punch, Sir?” R stood next to him in a Santa hat looking entirely too festive.

He didn’t want punch. _Punch_ something maybe…

His smile was strained. Despite his feelings about the season he wasn’t about to take it out on his staff. “No thank you, R. Perhaps later,” he replied, returning his attention to his laptop.

“Oh by the way,” she said, smile encroaching those pink cheeks while she reached into the back pocket of her pants suit to hold aloft a red envelope.“This arrived for you today.”

Q looked at the thing like it might be carrying a transmutable disease. “All scanned and checked out,” she said cheerily, thrusting it under his nose.

He took it tentatively. No one ever sent him post, let alone something resembling a Christmas card.

“Any word from 007?” she enquired innocently, sipping from her mug.

“Not a peep,” said Q, “it’s been nine bloody days. If he’s not dead already, I’ll kill him myself.”

He put the card next to his laptop when he heard the lilting voice of Eve pointing in his direction. “Aren’t you going to open it then?”

R and Q turned simultaneously. “Why, Miss Moneypenny. You look very Christmassy!” R gushed.

Q rolled his eyes. “Surely M has something to say about you parading around Six wearing a tinsel scarf and…” he paused squinting at her hair. “Is that mistletoe?” Eve leaned forward to kiss R on the cheek. “Does that answer your question?” Eve said, grinning smugly. R was blushing, and grinning like a loon.

“Anyway, I just came down to deliver these,” she said, popping a bag of mince pies in R’s hand to distribute to the minion mass, “and to tell you to come to the bridge at 3pm.”

Q frowned. “Can’t. Busy.”

“Must. No argument. M’s given me carte blanche to boss you all around today.”

“Really?” R said, eyes bright and enthusiastic. “What’s the plan?”

“Just because it’s Christmas _Eve_ …” Q grumbled.

“Precisely!” said Eve, with a brisk clap of her hands. “So hop to it, Q! No excuses. See you at 3pm!” she said with a curt tease, turning away with a twirl of her fingers in parting.

“You should just ask her out you know,” Q said quietly to R.

R sighed. “Way out of my league, Sir” she replied longingly. “Can’t wait to see what’s she’s got planned though!”

Q could. Q could wait until hell froze over. As if on cue and as though she knew he was thinking how to get out of the gathering, a message popped up on his screen.

_Don’t be late Q. Remember. I’m an agent and M’s right hand._

A promise and a threat all rolled into one. Wonderful.

* * *

When 2pm rolled around, Q, who had been glancing with growing trepidation at the red envelope finally caved.

It was indeed a Christmas card, with a London postmark.

He took it out and stared. It had a photo of a kitten on the front, wearing a Santa hat looking like an anchovy wouldn’t melt in its mouth. The words “MEOWY CHRISTMAS!” printed along the bottom.

He opened it.

It turns out that Bond was capable of giving Q a headache even when not in the nearby vicinity.

**“Equipment all present and accounted for. If you want it back, see you at the bridge by Six at 3pm.**

**Hugs and near misses, 007.”**

Q calmly closed the card, feeling anything but. Oh he’d be at the bridge alright. The absolute nerve of the man…

* * *

The cold snap in London was hard and vicious enough to convince Q that climate change may be closer than even the experts thought. He wasn’t particularly fond of the cold, his thin layer of flesh doing little to protect his organs from its chilling bite. The inlet of water next to the river, because it was not especially deep, was completely frozen over. As Q and R made their way there at the designated time, Q glanced occasionally at his number one. “You know what’s going on, don’t you,” he stated. Her fake gasp told him all he needed to know.

“Really Sir! As if I’d keep secrets from you!”

“You may work with spies, R. Doesn’t mean you can lie like one,” he grumbled.

She was still beaming when they rounded the base of the bridge and Q was brought up short.

“Q!” shouted Eve, gesturing him over to where she stood amongst the Double Os who seemed to turn as one body to watch the approaching boffin. “So glad you could tear yourself away!” He squared his shoulders, determined not to buckle under the scrutiny of the intimidating bastards.

She thrust a starting pistol into his hands. “Would you mind doing the honours?” she asked, eyes twinkling. She made her way to the line of agents who’d in the intervening seconds organised themselves in a line standing on the edge of the inlet. She took position next to 004, Felicity Honour. 005 was there. And of course, 006 and 007. He just caught the end of whatever Trevelyan and Bond (the wanker) had been arguing about. As per usual.

“….you seem to forget,  moy malen'kiy angliyskiy keks. I am Russian. I was born in this climate. It’s my home. You don’t stand a chance.”

“We’ll see about that won’t we, Alec? Scotland isn’t exactly known for its balmy temperatures either,” retorted Bond.

“Focus boys! Three circuits of the pond and no cutting corners!” barked Eve. She looked over at Q who was standing looking dumbly at the pistol. “When you’re ready, Q!” she called out.

R nudged him. Oh well, he shrugged inwardly. He was outnumbered anyway. May as well go with the flow. He held the gun aloft and pulled the trigger.

“And may the best agent win!” shouted R above the cheers of the small gathering of MI6 staff who had turned up.

“What exactly is it that they do win?” enquired Q, secretly hoping Bond would fall flat on his arse and embarrass himself.

“Oh,” said R airily, watching as Eve and Honour tried to trip each other up. “Just dinner this evening with a Q-Branch staffer of their choice.” 

Q looked mortified. “What the—?!” he spluttered. “I never agreed to that!”

R, ever the plainspeakinug associate, didn’t hesitate. “Of course you didn’t, but we all voted on it and I voted for you by proxy.” He was about to argue when R put a finger against her lips and he found himself silencing. 

“Those singles amongst us have sod all of a social life as it is. Time to let our hair down. _Sir_. Even if it’s just for one night. And it _is_ Christmas after all.”

Q sighed. Well, he may be a miserable bastard at this time of year, but he did promise himself he wouldn’t take it out on the minions. He turned to watch the agents on their second lap of the pond. Eve, light and graceful on her feet marginally held the lead.

He’d just have to make sure that whichever agent did take the prize, didn’t abuse the privilege.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. As is the way of these things, a slightly slow build demands an extra chapter! (sorrynotsorry)

Because it’s Christmas, and miracles do sometimes happen, Alec beat all the other agents to the punch, but Eve, the host with the most, always found a way to ease the pain of an arsekicking by a fellow agent of their prideful colleagues. The small group of panting, sweaty Double Os were standing across the pond, about 15 feet away from the group of onlookers. Alec was disagreeing with Eve about something, while pointing towards what appeared to be Q’s position. Bond was standing with his arms folded, looking smug while Eve was evidently putting Alec in his place. And it was then, when Alec raised his tone, Q and R caught onto the nature of the conversation.

“….. said any _any_ Q Branch staffer, Moneypenny.”

“You’ll have to ask him yourself then,” she said primly, glancing Q’sway to give him fair warning of what was to come. “If he’s not comfortable, don’t be a bully about it, Trevelyan.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Q mumbled under his breath. Of course, there were more than 40 staff under his care, but 006 wouldn’t settle for anything less than the top dog.

“Time to nip this in the bud,” he stated firmly before moving to march across the pond towards the group.

Bond had fixed his steel blue, hawk-eyed gaze on Q while Moneypenny and 006 continued to banter. Q was halfway across before he realised that perhaps the actual centre of the pond might not be the safest place to be. After all, the agents had skated their little race around the outer edge, where the ice was considerably thicker. 

And Bond, ever vigilant in the face of unseen danger, was moving towards the Quartermaster before the sheet of ice beneath his feet had even begun to crack.

* * *

It wasn’t especially deep water, 8-10 feet at most. But it was enough to immerse Q completely. The shock of the cold hit his system so hard that his body went into a moment of paralysis that felt like an eternity. He was only vaguely aware of the muffled splash above him and strong hands grabbing his waist to shove him upwards. Numb to the core as he was, he barely felt another pair of hands - Trevelyan’s - reach into the water to take him by his armpits and drag him up to the surface and onto the ice.

The next thing he heard was Eve barking orders about Medical and hot showers and bugger it all to hell if he hasn’t gone and lost his glasses to the murky depths. Felicity hauled him to his feet and Q found himself anchored between the solid forms of herself and 006, shuffling him quickly across the ice back towards the looming safety of River House. R was hot on his heels, he barely felt her hand on the small of his back through his sodding wet parka and jumper but it was there, doing what she could to reassure.

The cold felt as though it was gripping his very heart and consciousness was slipping away. The last thing he sensed once they hit terra firma was the sensation of being swept into 006’s arms and he heard himself mumbling in quiet protest. _Good God_ , he thought to himself as logical thought departed from his mind, _I am never going to live this down…_

* * *

The cocoon of warmth in which he work up some hours later felt like heaven. The memory of the cold biting his bones seeping and vanishing into the cosiness of the blankets. He felt something shift in his ear and was about to bat it away when he realised it was Dr Jones, Head of Medical, taking his temperature.

_BEEP!_ went the device. “All looks fine. Core body temperature back to normal,” Jones said with calm reassurance. 

“Lost my glasses,” Q heard himself mumble. It was only a few seconds later, when he felt a gun-calloused palm against his own and the solid feel of his frames being pressed into his palm. Q slid up the pillow and put on them on, clearing the haze to reveal 006 and 007 standing on either side of the bed, watching him. He wasn’t sure why, but he suddenly felt a little too hot.

“You rescued them,” he whispered. Bond shrugged. “Eve made me. Said you’re blind without them.”

“Speaking of Eve…” Q asked, looking around. “She’s gone to yours to grab some fresh clothes,” Bond stated. “Can’t have you parading about Six in a terry robe now can we? Half the staff might get the crazy idea that it’s Christmas…”

Q allowed himself a small laugh, more relief at the warmth than anything else. “Thank you. For saving my glasses. And pulling me out of a watery grave.”

“I was just quicker of the mark,” Bond said casually, looking over at Trevelyan who had kept his peace during the exchange. “If Alec hadn’t been so busy arguing with Eve about winning your company for dinner this evening…”

Q - feeling suddenly emboldened by his near brush with death (OK. _Maybe_ a tad overdramatic but still…) - allowed without a second, traitorous thought and not without a slight sense of disbelief, the next words to tumble from his mouth.

“Well. Technically 006 did win the race,” Q said thoughtfully. “Though you did ruin a nice suit in the process of saving my sorry arse, 007.” He paused. “Ergo, logic demands that I take _you_ both out to dinner.”

The look the agents exchanged was borderline shocked but quickly recovered. 

“I think we’d both like that very much, Quartermaster…”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a distinct possibility that I will treat this as the longest prompt EVER, and write how they got themselves together in the intervening three month period mentioned but not explored. Right now though, I just wanted some sexy closure before the end of the weekend. :)

This may in fact be the understatement of the year, but dinner? was a revelation.

Between the strength of their mutual respect - and Q would even go so far to say love - combined with the needling banter he observed throughout the evening, he was left in absolutely no doubt that these men could survive anything in the world of espionage that life could throw at them. 

Bond was on his third martini and Trevelyan on his fifth vodka when they redirected their attention towards Q, who up until that point had been more than happy to watch and enjoy their playful interactions. Now he found himself once again the object of a focus that would have been flattering for anyone else, but unnerving for him.

“I think it’s time we heard a few stories from the life and times of our esteemed Quartermaster,” said Bond, leaning back in his chair and unbuttoning his jacket.

Q fingered the stem of his wine glass, which Bond recognised as a slight tick. He had observed the same treatment of his favourite mug when Q was talking to M in person or via comms.

He cleared his throat. “Oh my life experience pales in comparison I’m afraid,” he said with a smile. “Careening down the sides of mountains, jumping from planes and rescuing damsels in distress is a far cry from what I can offer.”

And with those words, Alec saw his opening and made his move.

“You underestimate yourself Quartermaster. Personally, I find what you are capable of offering fascinating.”

Q chastised himself inwardly at the rising, betraying blush. “I find myself quite fulfilled with my work and my cats.”

“You know, I think he’s attempting to feign dull to try and throw us off, Alec,” Bond’s smile was blatantly sensual. “Would you like to know what we see when we look at you, Q?”

Q tilted his head in curiosity. Such a statement could only mean that he’d been under observation for some time. And so engrossed had he been in making his mark on MI6, had completely failed to notice. A Quartermaster’s mind is put together differently from that of an agent after all. He could hardly be blamed for missing the signs. 

“I’m not sure—“ Q began, shifting in his seat.

Bond ignored him, Alec giving his fellow agent an encouraging nod before he continued.

“People like Alec and I? We don’t have many people whom we can trust in the world. For obvious reasons. It’s come as second nature to trust each other, having been through so much together in the field. But aside from M, there is no one within the walls of MI6 than we trust more than you.”

Bond continued without pause, letting his instincts guide him. “When I watch you, I see isolation. A safe space you have created around yourself that no-one is allowed to invade. You fear intimacy as much as you crave it.”

He laid his hand on the table. “We want to share the trust we have in each other with you, Q. Let us in.”

And Q? Q was tempted. There was no denying his interest and attraction to the two men… But… he knew. Understood himself too well.

“No.” 

He stood and straightened his jacket. “Thank you for a lovely evening, agents, but I think here’s where we call it a night.”

He departed. And Bond or Trevelyan didn’t try and stop him.

“Worth a shot, James,” said Alec as they both watched their retreating Quartermaster’s back.

“Never say never, Alec,” said Bond. He wouldn’t be the agent he was today if he turned away from a challenge.

And he always did so enjoy a challenge.

* * *

**Three Months Later…**

“Ty absolyutnyy ublyudok, Alec!”

James was back from a mission in Warsaw not twelve hours, and despite its harrowing circumstances, exhaustion and a deep, dreamless state had won him over. He’d fallen in a comatose state, alone in bed, not long after arriving at Q’s flat and woken up ten minutes ago, to find himself tied firmly to the bed frame. Not only tied by knots that he had himself taught Alec, but tied with the stockings Q had bought him for his own birthday.

Across the room, Alec had Q pinned to the wall, large hands clasping a slender waist, one leg between Q’s while he was currently subjecting Q’s collarbone and chest to a savage onslaught like that to which a lion would the rapidly diminishing carcass of a wildebeest.

Now fully awake (in more ways than one), the effects of the mission were kicking back in his mind and he was desperate for some - ANY kind of release to soothe the comedown. Bond closed his eyes against the sight of the two of them locked against each other, opening them again at the sound of Q’s breathy, [shuddering moan](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dr8HDRvlKog). His head was pitched to the side, held in place now by Alec’s hand buried in his hair while he ravaged his throat.

Alec turned his head towards James then, shameless grin plastered across his face, releasing Q and giving him a moment to catch his breath. “Really James,” he tutted, “has the mission taken so much out of you you’re not even going to try?”

And that was what did it. James wrenched his wrist hard, bruising his flesh and causing a sharp rush of pain but tearing the stocking in the process. Alec moved swiftly towards the bed before James could free his other hand. He had him pinned beneath the length of his body though wasn’t going down without a fight bucking angrily against him. “Get the fuck off me, Alec,” he growled. 

“Ask nicely now James,” Alec said teasingly, wrestling the exhausted agent, just as another breathless moan sounded behind them causing them both to pause in their battle for dominance. Alec rolled off Bond and both men took in the sight of Q, completely focussed on his own pleasure, one hand caressing his scalp while the other moved with a beautiful, steady rhythm against his cock. His eyes closed, head thrown carelessly back against the wall, both agents just watched for a few seconds more before Bond yanked his other hand free and rolled off the bed. In a few quick strides he was in front of Q, grabbing his occupied hand and dragging him towards the bed. Alec had made space and kept to the side while Bond, completely aroused, climbed on top of Q and with fuelled determination and purpose ground their hips together hard and fast. 

Their climax was quick and dirty and beyond satisfying. Bond glanced to the side, his smug comrade, looking very pleased with himself. Bond pulled Alec into a kiss while a sated Q watched.

“Beautiful, fucking Cossak,” grumbled Bond, falling to Q’s side and pulling the boffin close against him, burying his face in his hair, content and soothed.

Missions would drain him dry, leave him cold and empty, but this.

This.

Again and again, Q and Alec pulled him from the cold, murky depths and reminded him to simply breathe.


End file.
